A Twist in the Plot
by FrUK Seasons
Summary: The sweet, adorable Italy we all know and love has changed. How, you ask? He was possesed, taken over by an evil entity bent on causing pain and destruction. And, in the midst of it all, is Germany. Anguish is all he feels as he's forced to shoot bullet after bullet into the one he loves; how will this battle end? Dark GerIta oneshot.


**A Twist In the Plot**

_Oneshot_

Blood. Gunfire. The sounds of men shouting orders, or falling to the ground that was once so green, now being slowly enveloped in a crimson stain. That's what was going on in the backround of what Germany now faced. However, everything was silent to his ears. Everything but that voice. That sickenly gutteral voice that absolutely did not belong to the Italian that stood across from him; across the battlefield on which their boots were slowly being tainted by the blood that seeped from the bullet holes that adorned their bodies. Both had their guns raised at eachother, poised to shoot again.

"Come'on, shoot him! Shoot him again! Do some real damage. Or, are you too weak Germany?~" Italy sneered, his lips curling upward into a malicious grin.

"It's either kill or be killed, Ludwig. Remember our little deal? If you die, his soul along with yours are going straight to Hell. Better if he dies at the mercy of your gun than for the two of you to be tortured for all of eternity in the Netherworld, hm?" The possesed Italian laughed cruely, emotionless black eyes boring into the icey blue of Germany's smugly.

That demon... It had caused so much trouble for the poor man he currently inhabited. However, one good thing had come of it's appearance. Despite the circumstances that had accompanied it's presence, it had started their relationship; Germany and Italy's. Once exorcised, the two were free to love without the evil entity's interferrence. But that all changed when Italy's new boss came to power. Genesis. The man being cruel in both authority and his hate for Germans, he went as far as to beat the italian, trying to force him into war with his lover. But with repeated failure, he finally looked to darker forces to get what he wanted. That's where the demon came back into play.

_Vhy..? Vhy did zhis have to happen?_ The German thought, sorrow sending a jolt of pain through his heart worse than any dagger could ever inflict. Memories of the previous night flashed into his mind. The Italian's smooth skin against his naked body, the sweet taste of his mouth as their lips were pressed together; his beautiful moans that had echoed so harmoniously throughout the room.

_Zhat damn Genesis... If he hadn't..._ He furrowed his brows in anger, wishing so badly he had been allowed to break that door down. The door Genesis had slammed shut in his face when taking Italy to one of his 'conferences'. He knew that if he had gotten into that room, Italy would be getting a new boss right about now. His eyes redirected themselves to gaze at his lover's beaten body, lingering on every bullet wound that had been inflicted by he himself. Two in his right thigh, another on his side, as as well as two more on his left shoulder, and one that had grazed his arm; all oozing the dark ruby fluid onto his bluish-grey military outfit, staining it an odd purple hue. He felt his own injuries throbbing, the holes boring into the flesh of his right shoulder and arm. None had been fatal wounds yet. Neither was on the brink of death. However, he knew without a doubt that was to change soon.

_I can't die. No matter vhat, if Italy is to have a chance at living, if our love is to last, I can't let zhat demon vin. I can't let Genesis have his vay._ He could faintly hear the explosions erupting behind him as Genesis's soldiers began using granades. Those soldiers. The mysterious army that came with him when Genesis took over. They were nothing like the spineless, retreating Italian men that were usually sent into war. These men were strong, muscular, well-trained, and most of all, brutal.

"Giving up already?~" The entity asked, emotionless, black eyes boring into Germany's blue.

"Nein." Was his simple reply; however, he made no move to shoot the Italian. Snorting in distaste, Italy lowered his pistol to the German's mid torso, owning a cocky smirk.

"It doesn't seem as if you're taking this seriously. Let's remind you, shall we?~" And with that, Italy pulled the trigger without a second thought, the bullet sinking into Germany's stomach. His eyes opened wide as he coughed in surprise, doubling over in pain. His gun clattered to the ground at his feet, warm blood oozing onto his hands as he grasped the fabric around the wound.

"G-gott..." He muttered, the Italian's triumphant laughter resounding through the air despite the ongoing battle.

"Now, you better shoot him, or this one's going into your skull," He warned, cold black eyes narrowing menacingly. Fumbling to pick up his weapon in his crimson-tainted hands, he finally got a hold of it and aimed, closing his eyes, and pulled the trigger. But instead of the snickering or boasting he expected, a pitiful whimper met his ears as the bullet made contact with Italy's knee, knocking the Italian to the ground.

The pistol in his hands slipped away, falling beside him with a small thud.

"G-Germany..? What's going-" He stopped mid-sentence, looking around in horror and confusion. Bodies of deceased soldiers soaking in their own blood as well as others lay strewn across the battlefield, their former comrades ignoring their eerie presence in the heat of the battle. The remaining men fought brutally still, raining ammunition as well as explosives on eachother in a desperate scrimmage for victory. Wide, brown eyes whose vision was becoming blurred slowly moving away from the warring soldiers, Italy redirected his gaze to Germany. By now, hot tears were streaming down his dirt-smudged face, a sob escaping his throat when seeing the dark purple stains marking where the German had also been shot.

"H-he shot me... B-but I shot him! I did that to to him!" He cried out in anguish. But something caught his eye, stopping his sobbing for a moment. There was Genesis, barking orders to his men, his face smug as he looked on at the carnage. The evil, twisted glint in his sea-green eyes. The pistol...

_I-I know what I have to do._ Grasping the thing in his shaking hands, he raised the gun to take aim at Genesis, his heart practically beating out of his chest. Before Italy could fire, his boss noticed the gun poised to send a bullet into him. Italy was retaliating. In a desperate move, Genesis pulled the trigger of his own gun that was now pointed at the trembling Italian. But, not before Italy's had fired. A single shot to the head was all it had taken, and the man slumped to the ground. Italy let out a cry of surprise and pain as a bullet bore into his chest, a sickening cough followed by blood erupting from his throat. But, it had not been Genesis's gun that had done the damage. It had been Germany's.

"G-Ger... Many..." He uttered in a hoarse murmer, his usually bright chesnut eyes dulling.

Germany's gun clattered to the ground, a look of horror now masking whatever had previously been his expression.

"N-nein! I-I didn't mean to... I didn't..." He had been in a daze, his finger slipping and sending that horrid shot right into his lover. Rushing to him in a instant despite his own painful injuries, he fell to his knees beside the Italian.

"Italy... I'm so sorry... I never meant to... I didn't!" Italy smiled sadly, raising his still trembling hand to lay a finger on Germany's lips, silencing him.

"I... Know..." He wheezed, a weak cough escaping his lips.

"I-it's better... That it happened... This way..." He told him slowly, eyes looking away in shame.

"That demon... He's a liar Germany... He would've never... Let me go," He told him sorrowfully.

"B-but vhy..?" The German asked, tears now running down his face.

"I g-gave him my soul... He promised to protect... Me... But he lied..." He sighed, only bringing on another coughing fit.

"Please, I want you... To give my land... To Prussia.. He can become... A real Country again," He smiled a little, hand slipping away from Germany's face.

"I love you Germany... Ti amo.. You were... My best friend..." Italy's dulling eyes slowly closed, his breathing growing more and more shallow.

"Nein... Nein! Please don't leave me! I can't live vithout you Italy!" He cried, shaking his head in denial. But he knew it was too late. His lover was gone. His breathing had ceased, his heartbeat had stopped. Everything grew silent as not a man stood living on the battefield, Germany being the only one left. His expression grew blank as his gaze lingered a little to long on the Pistol at his side, his hand eventually stretching out to grasp it numbly. The pistol that had inflicted all these wounds upon him. The pistol that had killed Genesis. The pistol that would now kill him. Lifting it to his head, he smiled a rather sorrowful smile.

"Long live Prussia."

Bang.

Author's Note;

Ok, so I just wanted to clarify that this battle wasn't based on anything historical, nor was there ever a man named Genesis that dictated Italy (At least that I know of). Actually, I had the idea from a RP I was in awhile back, and it dawned on me, what would have happened if Italy had died? I know it may have ended a little cliche, but hey, sometimes stories just have those types of endings. Hope you enjoyed!


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